Water

Carol didn’t like it when Thomas stayed in the house. This was her sanctuary; her realm. Away from the London boom and the speed. She enjoyed having it all to herself: the cries of the seagulls in the morning, the fine sand between her toes when she was strolling along her little beach, the salty air - this was her zone.

When he was barging into that picture he upset everything: her routine, her cats, even her diet. There were those days when she wondered if this relationship was still a good idea but let’s face it: she loved the way his body moved. The way he touched her breasts and let his hands glide down to her most intimate parts as he was kissing her neck. Strong and gentle at the same time - that’s how she liked him. But other than that she preferred him to be far, far away.

Alas, today was his birthday and it couldn’t be helped. God alone knows why he wouldn’t spend his special day with his wife, like any other decent adulterer. But noo, “I want to be with you, babe; I got something special for the both of us, babe.” Eugh! If he carried on like this he would successfully destroy a perfectly adequate relationship. Well, the Coq au Vin was in the oven and the champagne was in the fridge. Plenty of time to get some work done before she could enjoy a hot hour in the kitchen.

Carol loves her work as a wedding planner. Watching young couples and their parents throw thousands and thousands of pounds right at her has always given her a feeling of quiet satisfaction. They were rushing with a bang into the most complicated episode of their lives. She always wondered whether they didn’t know, or didn’t care, that in the end more than half of their ‘happily ever afters’ were bound to fail. What a childish notion. No one in their right mind would seriously consider a job vacancy with a one in two chance of ending up in misery, topped up with huge financial losses.

But was that her problem? Not at all! Actually, quite the opposite was the case. She had learned that couples who weren’t so sure of themselves spent up to twice as much money as those who were confident about their future. In other words, it was the doubters who put fashion in her wardrobe and jewels around her neck. That is if it wasn’t darling Tom’s idea to buy a little something that matches her ‘beautiful eyes’. She smiled to herself while sending a fat invoice for a ‘special wedding: Unicorn Style’.

The crashing sound of the waves broke her tranquillity. For a moment she was wondering what Tom would think of her, knowing that her all-time favourite phrase was: “I can’t divorce her darling, you know it would break her heart.” She just loved to be an understanding sidekick; it kept things simple and her in his favour.

The crunching noise of tires driving up her access road made her get up and sashay to the front. It was Tom all right, getting out of a mediocre tin can.

“What happened to the Porsch?” That thing was positively hideous.

“Gave it to Lara.”

Carol’s instincts kicked in and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “I remember you said she doesn’t have a driver’s licence.” Should she be worried, amused, angry?

He laughed out loud like a schoolboy on a Saturday afternoon. “She doesn’t. I’d say she’s going to sell it.” Why was he beaming like he’d hit the jackpot? He let his hands glide over her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. Then he kissed her as if it had been months between this one and the last. “Can’t you guess, babe? She agreed to a divorce! It’s going to cost me an arm and a leg, but who cares. I am free!”

Carol gently took his head between her hands and looked into those gorgeous grey eyes, “Happy Birthday my raven.” She grabbed his tie and led him straight into the bedroom. Screw the damned chicken and the bubbly. She had everything she wanted right here and she wanted it right now. God, how she hoped that the seagulls would shit on that horrid wreck.

After a delightful hour he slid over her naked body and went into the kitchen to plunder the dish. He came back with the bottle and opened it with a faint pop. Some of the bubbling liquid ended up in her mouth but the better part went onto her breasts. She gasped in pleasure, enjoying the little cold pearls that ran down to her stomach. She playfully took the bottle from his hands and got on top of him. Outside the window she could see the seagulls dancing on the slipstream.

“There is something I have to tell you, love.”

“Hm?” His attention was focused on her naked breasts. She took a long sip from the bottle,

“Darling, I’m married.”

Carol didn’t like it when Thomas stayed in the house. This was her sanctuary; her realm. Away from the London boom and the speed. She enjoyed having it all to herself: the cries of the seagulls in the morning, the fine sand between her toes when she was strolling along her little beach, the salty air - this was her zone.

When he was barging into that picture he upset everything: her routine, her cats, even her diet. There were those days when she wondered if this relationship was still a good idea but let’s face it: she loved the way his body moved. The way he touched her breasts and let his hands glide down to her most intimate parts as he was kissing her neck. Strong and gentle at the same time - that’s how she liked him. But other than that she preferred him to be far, far away.

Alas, today was his birthday and it couldn’t be helped. God alone knows why he wouldn’t spend his special day with his wife, like any other decent adulterer. But noo, “I want to be with you, babe; I got something special for the both of us, babe.” Eugh! If he carried on like this he would successfully destroy a perfectly adequate relationship. Well, the Coq au Vin was in the oven and the champagne was in the fridge. Plenty of time to get some work done before she could enjoy a hot hour in the kitchen.

Carol loves her work as a wedding planner. Watching young couples and their parents throw thousands and thousands of pounds right at her has always given her a feeling of quiet satisfaction. They were rushing with a bang into the most complicated episode of their lives. She always wondered whether they didn’t know, or didn’t care, that in the end more than half of their ‘happily ever afters’ were bound to fail. What a childish notion. No one in their right mind would seriously consider a job vacancy with a one in two chance of ending up in misery, topped up with huge financial losses.

But was that her problem? Not at all! Actually, quite the opposite was the case. She had learned that couples who weren’t so sure of themselves spent up to twice as much money as those who were confident about their future. In other words, it was the doubters who put fashion in her wardrobe and jewels around her neck. That is if it wasn’t darling Tom’s idea to buy a little something that matches her ‘beautiful eyes’. She smiled to herself while sending a fat invoice for a ‘special wedding: Unicorn Style’.

The crashing sound of the waves broke her tranquillity. For a moment she was wondering what Tom would think of her, knowing that her all-time favourite phrase was: “I can’t divorce her darling, you know it would break her heart.” She just loved to be an understanding sidekick; it kept things simple and her in his favour.

The crunching noise of tires driving up her access road made her get up and sashay to the front. It was Tom all right, getting out of a mediocre tin can.

“What happened to the Porsch?” That thing was positively hideous.

“Gave it to Lara.”

Carol’s instincts kicked in and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “I remember you said she doesn’t have a driver’s licence.” Should she be worried, amused, angry?

He laughed out loud like a schoolboy on a Saturday afternoon. “She doesn’t. I’d say she’s going to sell it.” Why was he beaming like he’d hit the jackpot? He let his hands glide over her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. Then he kissed her as if it had been months between this one and the last. “Can’t you guess, babe? She agreed to a divorce! It’s going to cost me an arm and a leg, but who cares. I am free!”

Carol gently took his head between her hands and looked into those gorgeous grey eyes, “Happy Birthday my raven.” She grabbed his tie and led him straight into the bedroom. Screw the damned chicken and the bubbly. She had everything she wanted right here and she wanted it right now. God, how she hoped that the seagulls would shit on that horrid wreck.

After a delightful hour he slid over her naked body and went into the kitchen to plunder the dish. He came back with the bottle and opened it with a faint pop. Some of the bubbling liquid ended up in her mouth but the better part went onto her breasts. She gasped in pleasure, enjoying the little cold pearls that ran down to her stomach. She playfully took the bottle from his hands and got on top of him. Outside the window she could see the seagulls dancing on the slipstream.

“There is something I have to tell you, love.”

“Hm?” His attention was focused on her naked breasts. She took a long sip from the bottle,

“Darling, I’m married.”